


Upon the Handles of the Lock

by RosemarysBabysitter (TashaElizabeth)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fantasizing, Masturbation, Voyeurism, character_kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaElizabeth/pseuds/RosemarysBabysitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a request for "sexually repressed!Chilton fantasizing about a hospital employee" at the Raúl Esparza Character Kink Meme at character-kink.dreamwidth.org.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon the Handles of the Lock

Frederick’s sex drive comes in waves. One day, he’s fine and the next day its like he’s fourteen years old again and the constant refrain of sex, sex, sex beats against the inside of his head like a samba. Sometimes when people are talking, he’ll realize he hasn’t actually heard anything they were saying because he was watching the shapes of their lips.

He tells himself this is all perfectly within the bounds of normality and that ‘deviant’ isn’t even a concept anyone uses anymore.

Will is not talking to him by talking about fishing, particularly false casting to obtain the perfect loop, and Frederick is trying to keep his eyes open. If anyone had told him how staggeringly boring ninety five percent of psychiatry was he’d have taken that job teaching history of medicine at that community college. He sits leaning to one side in the chair outside Will’s cell and listens to Will not talk about fishing. Today, he spends the time thinking about Will having sex with Alana Bloom. He is fairly certain this must have happened at least once. Possibly more. He thinks about Alana with her head thrown back and her blouse open. He would pay a lot of money to see what Alana Bloom looks like when she is having sex, face flushed and mouth open. Will is still talking about casting techniques.

When the orderly comes with Will’s dinner tray Frederick is relieved. He makes excuses and walks stiffly away, hastening toward the elevator. He can’t decide if Alana Bloom is also having sex with Hannibal Lector or even, his pulse quickens to consider, if the three of them were all having sex together. The visual of that thought heats Frederick’s cheeks. That would certainly explain a lot about Alana’s behavior.

Once in the elevator, he punches the button and reaches his hand under the band of his pants to adjust his hardened dick. Someone stops the door just before it slams shut and he pretends he was tucking in his shirt. The door pulls back and it is Inelle Corey, a LPN from the women's ward. He hired her himself six weeks ago, captivated by the round curve of her smile and the little nervous gasps which tighten her stomach when she speaks to him. She is sweet and young and beautiful. She has thick waist length blonde hair and she wears a small cross at the hollow of her throat. She enters the elevator and smiles at her shoes. Frederick buttons his jacket and keeps his hands there, pulling the fabric tight against his shoulders.

Nurse Corey does not wear pants. Nurse Corey has never, to Frederick’s knowledge, worn pants. When she is off duty she wears soft, denim skirts which come down to her calves. When she is working she wears nurses uniforms, real uniforms not scrubs, and white stockings. Frederick wonders if they’re pantyhose or if she’s so old fashioned she would wear garters. He wonders if she would let him touch her under her skirt where the garter would end. He thinks her thighs would be white and soft and smell like soap. He closes his eyes, dizzy.

The elevator bobs to a stop and the door rolls open.

“Doctor Chilton?” Inelle says softly. When he opens his eyes again she is looking at him as though he is made of light. Inelle Corey is saving her first kiss for her wedding day. He doesn’t remember who she told that, but he heard it through one of the bugs he had installed in the staff breakroom.

“No,” he says firmly and put his hands over his eyes. They stand in the open elevator together for a long moment. He thinks that if she touches him he might actually snap. She doesn’t touch him. She reaches past him and holds the elevator door.

“The work you’re doing must be so exhausting, Doctor.”

“Thank you.”

“I want you to know how much I appreciate this job. I feel so lucky just to be doing my small part in this. Helping these people when no one else can. It’s so important.”

Frederick doesn’t know what to say because he’s already said thank you. He opens his fingers and looks at her through them, the bottom of his face still covered from the bridge of his nose down. She is sincere. She is not mocking him. The cross would be cool against his tongue. He sweeps past her, out into the hallway, making for his office.

“I pray for you, Doctor,” Inelle pipes from the rumbling elevator. “Every night.”

Frederick’s hand slides off the doorknob entirely and his shoulder smacks into the door with a hard thud. Someone down the hallway looks up from their clipboard. Someone else sticks their head out of an office. Frederick bolts into his office and locks the door.

He falls onto the sofa and tilts his head back, rubbing one hand along the zipper of his pants with loose, easy motions.

He pictures Nurse Corey’s hypothetical garters under his hands and her cotton covered crotch grinding down on his bare dick. He pictures her crawling across the floor to lick where he tells her to. There isn’t a camera in the women’s locker room but he could have one installed no problem. He opens his pants and slides both hands into his briefs.There isn’t a camera but there’s a bug. He could listen to the soft sounds of her taking off her little white nurses uniform. Right now, he could listen to her humming to herself as she rolls down her white stockings and think about her on her knees by the side of her bed, hands clasped and thinking about him. He leans forward and begins to stroke in earnest. He could put her soft hands under his and show her how to touch him just like this. Just like this, in the hot, sweat smelling safety of his office and her looking at him, looking at him like she does.

Frederick doesn’t pray. He begs. In the quiet place at the center of his mind where no one can hear him, he bites his lip and begs for Inelle Corey. He begs for the soft weight of her breasts in his hands. He begs for her hair piling against his thighs. He wonders if she swears and if she doesn’t he wants to teach her every dirty word he knows with thorough and exhausting practical demonstration.

He remembers the camera on his ceiling all at once and when he opens his eyes to glance at it he comes fast and gasping into his cupped hand.


End file.
